Renew
by Riles
Summary: When Albus got onto the Hogwarts Express, he expected to have a normal year at Hogwarts, just like his father always had. But no son of Harry Potter can get by so easily. This picks up right where the epilogue left off.
1. The Hogwarts Express

Albus withdrew his head from the window, his hair as messy as always. That was the one good thing about inheriting his father's untidy hair – throwing his head out of the window of moving transportation effected it minimally. Rose, however, couldn't say the same. Her bushy, flaming red hair was already entangled, and he watched her absentmindedly comb her fingers through it, a serious look on her face. Albus was used to this – Rose was his best friend, but her mind frequently went places that his couldn't fathom. This time, however, he thought he had an idea.

"We're going to be all right," he said, a little more confidently than he felt. The blazing smile he had just been wearing across his face had vanished with the last sight of his parents, and Rose's grim expression was infecting him as though it were seeping in through the pores in his body. He searched for the warmth again, but he seemed to have left it at the train station. "My dad told me that even if I'm in Slytherin, it won't change anything."

"Lucky you," Rose said, fingers still slithering through her hair. "You know my dad, and you heard him. He'll disinherit me."

"I don't think he was serious," Albus said quickly.

"Oh, I know," Rose said, but her expression didn't falter for an instant. "Mum would never let him. But he'd be very disappointed, that I know for sure."

Albus searched for something to say, but couldn't deny the obvious truth to her words, so he settled himself with staring out the window. It was a beautiful morning, a perfect blue sky touched with unicorn-white clouds. With a pang of regret, it hit him that he was leaving everything he knew behind. He'd been told stories about Hogwarts from everyone, of course, and it sounded wonderful, but now that he was on the train and there was no going back, he sort of wished he was still with Lily and his parents at the station.

As though reading his mind, Rose spoke. "It's much better that we're going, you know. I'm quite glad to be starting on my education. After watching Teddy, Victoire, and James go, I've felt ready for some time."

In a quick attempt to change the topic, for Albus did want not to admit how homesick he was feeling already, he said, "You don't think it was true what James said, do you? About Teddy and Victoire?"

"Of course it was," said Rose, and a bit of her brisk self came back. An annoying superior look crossed her features. "It's been obvious it was coming for _ages_."

"What do you mean?" said Albus, his annoyance slightly obvious. "You're no Seer, you couldn't know!"

"You didn't have to be a Seer to know _that_ was coming," said Rose in that irritating tone again. Albus felt his frustration rising. "Our parents have been discussing it for quite some time. I'd have thought you'd have known."

"They have not been talking about it! They'd have told me! Dad doesn't keep secrets form me!" But Albus was forced to stop there. He firmly believed that his father told him the truth at all times, but did his father keep secrets from him? Hadn't he just found out on the platform that he didn't know everything about his father? Albus had never known that the Sorting Hat had taken his father's opinion into account. He wondered vaguely if James knew and considered getting up to find him, but just then, the compartment door opened.

A very strange boy stood at the doorway, and Albus could think of no politer word. He had a light shade of blond hair that was in rather a disarray, as though he had not bothered to comb it that morning. His wand was held between his teeth and he had a bracelet that looked like a series of radishes, but smelled strongly of garlic. He was not yet dressed in his robes, but wore the strangest assortment of Muggle clothes Albus had ever seen – a canary yellow sweater, a plaid maroon kilt, and what looked like women's leggings traveling down to meet a pair of hiking boots. Perhaps his only favorable feature was his large, striking blue eyes.

"Sorry," he mumbled through the wand, "can I sit here?"

Rose didn't seem able to respond, her mouth slightly agape at the newcomer, so Albus patted the seat next to him as a means of consent. Seeing as both Rose and Albus had parents that were familiar with the Muggle world, they were taught early on Muggle customs and how to fit in. Until now, it had never really occurred to them that anyone _didn't_ know.

As the boy was putting his trunk in the rack above their heads, Rose spluttered, "Who _are_ you?"

Albus gave her a scathing look, but the boy didn't seem to have noticed. "Aeron Lovegood."

"Lovegood?" said Rose, startled. "Not the Lovegoods of _The Quibbler_?"

"Yes," said Aeron airily. "So you know of us?"

Rose looked as though this confirmed all of her worst suspicions. "That—"

But Albus, having some experience with Rose, cut her off before she could say anything insensitive. "That's an interesting magazine. My father's told me about it, says that even though it prints unusual material, it should be treated with respect."

Aeron eyed Albus for several moments as though contemplating him. "Who are you?"

"I'm Albus Potter, but Al's fine, and this is Rose Weasley."

Aeron nodded as though he had expected this. "Yes, of course."

Albus shared an uncertain look with Rose, both of them wondering the same thing: who had they just let sit in their compartment?

Before any more conversation could continue, however, the doors were thrust open again.

"Ha! So here you are!"

With an exclamation like that, Albus had expected James, but was surprised not to recognize the boy standing before him. Rose, however, scrutinized him as she would her arch rival. He, too, had blond hair, even fairer than Aeron's, and a pale complexion to match. His brand new black Hogwarts robes made it look even odder than was probably natural. His sharp, gray eyes bored into Albus's.

"So!" he said triumphantly.

Having no idea what was going on, Albus simply stared.

"You're the Potter boy!" he said again.

"Oh, very clever," Rose snapped. Albus turned to look at her, surprised at the sudden hostility.

The boy turned to give Rose a contemptuous glance. "And the Weasley girl, are you? Yes, my father told me I probably wouldn't like you."

"Then why have you come searching for us?" Albus asked haughtily, hurrying in defense of Rose.

"Because I was told _all_ about you, of course," came the boy's drawling voice. "My father told me I shouldn't be difficult for you, but I think it's all rubbish. I'm not going to stand aside for anyone, especially if I don't like them!"

He gave a pointed look at Rose.

"Yeah, well we don't like you either, so get out!"

"I'll leave when I please, Weasley!"

"You're quite rude, you know," came Aeron's voice.

The blond turned a scathing look onto Aeron. "And who are _you_?"

"Aeron Lovegood," he answered promptly.

The boy stared for a moment, then burst into a heap of laughter. "Your mother runs _The Quibbler_! I can't believe she can afford to send you here, running that piece of rubbish!"

"We make a very good living off it," Aeron said unconcernedly. He pulled the magazine seemingly out of nowhere as though to illustrate his point. The cover clearly showed the headline: _Confirmed Sighting of Crumple-Horned Snorkack in Ireland!_

The boy laughed even harder. "I actually _read_ that once, it was complete nonsense! Not an ounce of truth in the entire paper! It was a complete waste of my life!"

"Would you get out before I _really_ waste your life?" Albus said threateningly.

"Ooh, has daddy made you feel like you're someone important?" Scorpius's laughter died and he pulled on a sneer. "Just because your _father_ did some 'helpful' stuff for the wizarding world doesn't mean you can walk all over everyone."

"Like you're doing?" said Rose snappily, but she was cut off by Albus saying, "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Really, Potter, please don't insult my intelligence. I'm sure it could outstrip yours any day."

"Oh? Would you like to put that to the test?" said Rose, her voice rising noticeably.

Here, however, the boy hesitated slightly, eyeing Rose with uncertainty. "Your mother."

"What about her?" said Rose angrily, and she made to stand, but Albus grabbed her arm and thrust her back into the seat.

"Nothing," said Scorpius dismissively. "I'll just beat you all out at everything and we'll see who's the best! Just stay out of my way or I'll hex you! I know some good ones, wanna see?"

"Scorpius," came a quiet voice warningly.

It was only then that Albus noticed the blond boy was not alone. Standing behind him was another boy, such the opposite of Scorpius that it was a strange sight to behold. He was taller than Scorpius with hair as black as Albus's. His dark eyes took in the scene intuitively, almost as though he saw more than the rest of them. Where Scorpius was in shining new robes, this boy wore robes that were clearly bought secondhand. About the only thing they held in common was the same pale skin, though the stranger's seemed to suit him better than Scorpius's.

Scorpius sent his companion an annoyed look. "Yes, yes, all right, Lucas." He turned back to the people in the compartment. "We'll be seeing you around, I suppose. I'm not going easy on you just because my father wills it!"

And with a rather loud noise, he slammed the door so hard that the glass broke. Rose gave an angry sigh and whipped out her wand, pointed it at the broken glass, and said, "_Reparo!_"

The glass immediately flew back in place into the doorframe neatly, not a crack remaining. It looked as though it had never been broken. Albus gazed in awe at his friend. "You didn't tell me you could do magic already!"

Rose shrugged. "Just simple spells. Mum and dad are terrible. They always chide each other if they catch one another teaching me magic, but they love to help me when they think no one's watching."

The conversation with Scorpius was soon out of their minds. After he had pulled out his edition of _The Quibbler_, Aeron buried himself inside it and was not seen again for another hour. By that time, Albus and Rose were chatting happily about recent stories that the other hadn't heard yet and what they had been told about Hogwarts from their parents (none of them dared mentioned what James had said for fear of any of it being true). The trolley lady came and went, and each of them bought some cauldron cakes and, most especially, treacle tart – it had been recommended highly to Albus by his father.

Later throughout the day, James came to visit them. He, too, seemed taken aback by Aeron, but quickly fell back into his usual self. By the time he left, he had successfully turned Aeron's seat into a cushion of marshmallows, made Albus's glasses stick to the roof, and changed Rose's hair pink. His two friends that had followed him, Gavin and Michael, did nothing to save them from James's wrath. It was only when a passing prefect heard Rose's distressed wailing that their situation was rectified, though Aeron tried to convince the girl to leave his seat made of marshmallows, saying it gave the compartment "a little bit of personality." The prefect murmured something about Aeron giving it quite enough, but Albus wasn't sure he heard her.

Darkness fell over the train slowly. After talking with Rose about all the positive things they had heard about Hogwarts, he was now starting to look forward to their time there. This, of course, made time slow down to half its normal speed, and he found himself staring unseeingly through the window, boredom taking over. Clouds slowly passed by, and the blue sky seemed to take another day in itself changing colors before deciding on its routine black. Albus liked the night. Certainly there was nothing like a beautiful day for Quidditch, but something about all the stars at night was calming. He was sure his fascination would die as quickly as Astronomy started, however – once he was forced to start naming them and memorizing their placements and how many moons they had that he couldn't see anyway, the beauty of the night sky would likely dissolve.

After what felt like days, but logically was only hours, Rose commented that they should probably change into their robes. The boys looked startled at the sudden intrusion on their silence, but obeyed. Not a minute after, they felt the train begin to slow to a stop. Rose and Albus exchanged anxious glances, and the nervousness Albus had felt when he left his father returned to him now. What if things had changed since he had left Hogwarts? What if the Sorting Hat didn't care what Albus wanted, what if it put him in Slytherin anyway?

With uneasy steps, Albus pulled his things from the carriage. His new owl, Casper, was his only source of comfort as he traveled among the masses and was separated quickly from Rose and Aeron. He heard James call out, "Got your glasses, then?" as he passed, but Albus strained his ears for a different sound. After a few moments of picking apart the students voices, he found it.

"Firs' years, this way! Firs' years, over here!"

Albus was hard put not to run, and managed to contain himself to a brisk walk as he hurried forward. Hagrid's shadow loomed out of the distance, and a bright smile lit the half-giant's features as he spotted Albus in the crowd.

"S'bout time you showed up! I been waitin' for yeh here, keepin' a lookou' an' you're takin' your time!"

"Sorry, Hagrid," said Albus, returning the grin. It had been a long time since he'd seen Hagrid. Seeing as how Hogwarts still needed to be kept in pristine condition over the holidays and even the summer, Hagrid didn't seem available to visit that often. He still managed to come up for a Christmas or a birthday now and again, though, and that was all they really needed. As much as they loved Hagrid, he always insisted on bringing his own cooking to lighten the load on his mum and Rose's mum, which, though no one would ever say aloud for fear of their fathers' wrath, was about as good as dragon dung. Albus had already been forewarned that when he went to tea next Friday, he was to stay well clear of the chocolate cake.

"Firs' years, c'mon now! Right, you all 'ere?" He glanced around at them, as though expecting anyone who wasn't there to pop up and tell him so. "Right, then let's be off! We got a schedule to keep!"

Albus looked around frantically for Rose, but she found him first. The nervousness that had subsided at the sight of Hagrid was doubled after a look at Rose's face. It seemed she was getting closer and closer to a mental breakdown the nearer they got to Hogwarts. Albus made a mental note not to look at her when they were actually in front of the hat.

"All righ', in the boats! No more'n four to a boat!" called Hagrid to the crowd. He took an entire boat to himself, and the first years scrambled after him, eager not to be left behind. Albus sat next to Rose, and they were joined by Aeron and a brunette girl that Albus didn't know. None of them except Aeron seemed able to do anything but focus on breathing properly, however, and so introductions were bypassed. Aeron had put away his copy of _The Quibbler_ and was humming a strange jazz number that Albus didn't know.

As though Hagrid had eyes in the back of his head, he called, "FORWARD!" as soon as the last boy was safely inside. There was a large rippling effect as the boats silently glided forward, all moving as one. The night was dark, but Hogwarts castle could still be seen as it loomed in the distance, catching every eye and holding it as though it were the climax to a very good show. The lights from inside burned like golden jewels, reflecting across the lake and through the stars in the sky.

Noise broke the silence. "I just saw a mermaid!"

There was immediate chattering and people looking over the edges of the boat to see if it was true, some with looks of excitement and others sheer terror.

"Don' be startin' those kind o' rumors! The mermen in the lake don' come up to see the firs' years across," said Hagrid loudly.

"Then there _are_ mermen in the lake?" said a frightened girl in a nearby boat.

"'Course there are! Use 'em in the Triwizard Tournament every now and again. Merpeople are all righ' if yeh don' upset them, but they're best to be avoided if yeh can. They can get dangerous, they can."

There was more muttering about this, but they didn't have long. Hagrid called, "Duck!" as they had entered a dark cave underneath the castle and came up on a bank shortly thereafter. The first years followed Hagrid's lead as he got out of his boat and walked up a path that led them onto a sea of grass near a set of stone stairs. At the top, a rather plump, gleeful looking man in dark violet robes was waiting for them.

"Ah!" he said when they were all before him. "I see you have all arrived unharmed, lovely! Unfortunately, there is little time to chat. You know Minerva," the man said to Hagrid, "always in a hurry. You'd think the school was going to be attacked or something!"

At several gasps from students, he amended himself. "No, no, it _isn't_ going to be attacked, silly idea, but the Headmistress is always a little edgy, you know. Anyway, it's almost time, we must be quick!"

And with that, he strode to a door behind him and opened it, leading the way into the castle, Hagrid taking up the rear. It took a few moments before Albus was far enough inside to make out the room they were entering. It was huge, huge beyond all standards of huge; his father could never have accurately described the grandness of the entrance hall with mere words. He had no time to gawk, however, as he was pushed forward by more students. He saw the man in purple pause outside a set of oak doors, listening. The doors were open, and the rumble of students talking drifted effortlessly through to the first years listening slightly beyond.

Then there was a clinking of glass and a stern voice said, "Your attention, please. It is time to sort the first years."

The jaunty man turned to them, face alight with excitement. "That's our cue!"


	2. The Sorting

Albus felt the nervousness inside him rising as silence filled the room beyond. He became suddenly aware that his hands were shaking, and he shoved them hastily inside his robe to hide this from anyone watching. He looked anxiously over at Rose and saw that her face was nothing short of petrified. Fear washed over him like a tidal wave – he'd forgotten not to look at Rose as they got nearer to the Sorting. As the first years followed the violet-robed man, Albus pushed his shaking hands deeper into the pockets of his robe.

The room beyond was enormous, though not nearly as large as the hall he had just left. The ceiling reflected the starry night outside, and it blended so well with the walls of the hall that Albus was not sure where the sky ended and the walls began. This room held five long tables, the first of which stretched the width of the room and had an assortment of adults sitting along it with only two chairs missing their occupants. The other four took up almost the entire length of the hall, upon which sat all of the students of Hogwarts. Every eye seemed fixed upon Albus as he walked down the aisle, though logically he knew this was nothing more than paranoia. He held his robes tight against his small frame as he walked, and was in such a hurry to get to the end of the row that he almost tripped over his robes. Thankfully, Rose seemed to be jerked out of her stupor at this movement and grabbed his arm to steady him.

The first years stopped in front of a stool, upon which sat a very old, battered-looking hat. The man that had led them to that point moved to stand next to the stool. When they had all gathered before him once again, he spoke. "Good evening! I am Professor Swift! Now, first years, when I call your name, you'll come sit on the stool and place the Sorting Hat on your head. When you have been sorted into your houses, you will sit at the appropriate table. Everyone got it? Wonderful!"

Albus glanced around, trying to figure out which houses were which. He saw James wave at him from the table on the far left, which meant that was Gryffindor's table. To the left of them, Albus spotted the insignia of Ravenclaw, all of whom were gazing interestedly at the stool, as though it were about to share some secret with them. After them, Albus spotted the Slytherins. Everything James had told him about the lot seemed to be true: they looked like horrible, malicious people that probably wouldn't be averse to smashing his face in if the occasion presented itself. To the far right sat the Hufflepuffs, a rather kind-faced group of people that contrasted extraordinarily with the Slytherins next to them.

"Ackerd, Melissa!"

The girl that had asked Hagrid about mermaids on the boat shakily moved forward, looking very much like she would rather flee from the room and never be seen again. With an encouraging smile from Professor Swift, however, she managed to pick up the hat, sit on the stool, and place it on her head with a little squeak of fear.

Albus wasn't sure what he had expected to happen, but he'd thought _something_ would. His father had told him that the hat talked to people, but Albus had usually envisioned it speaking aloud so everyone could hear. There were several moments of silence, and then quite suddenly, an opening appeared at the brim of the hat like mouth, and the hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

The third table lined with blue exploded into tumultuous applause to greet the new Ravenclaw. The girl, looking quite relieved that the affair was over, skipped to her house table.

"Alcott, Timothy!"

The list of people went on. The dark-haired boy with Scorpius on the train, who was named Lucas Andrews, was sent to Slytherin without hesitation. Aeron, the boy from the train, turned out to be a Ravenclaw addition. This surprised Albus greatly, as he had not taken Aeron to have much of anything in his head. He also discovered, though this was not to his surprise, that Scorpius Malfoy was immediately sent to the Slytherin table to join his friend.

"Potter, Albus!"

The stern woman that sat in the middle of the staff table snapped her head to look at him as he nervously approached the stool. He felt her eyes boring into his with such intensity that it was almost a relief to turn his back to her when he sat on the stool. He slid the battered Sorting Hat over his head, which fell right down to his nose, and waited tensely for something to happen.

"Another Potter, eh…?" a soft voice whispered; whether it was in his ear or in his head, Albus knew not. "Brave like your father, yes… a curious mind… some cunning in you too, you could do well almost anywhere…"

_Please_, Albus thought meekly, _I don't want to go to Slytherin._

"Not Slytherin?" said the voice. "Slytherin will help you to get places, they're always well-connected, Slytherins…"

_No, please,_ Albus thought. _I want to be a Gryffindor._

"Gryffindor? Yes, I see you have a lot of your father in you… very well… GRYFFINDOR!"

The last word was shouted to the entire hall. He pushed the hat off his head to see a torrent of applause from the Gryffindor table. He scampered off the stool and searched for Rose, meeting her eyes once he'd found her. The fear on her face was one Albus associated with severe punishment, like the time his mother had discovered that he and James had accidentally set the house on fire when his parents were in Diagon Alley. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but that seemed to only heighten her terror, as though his grin was the signature on her death warrant.

Albus sat down next to a brunette boy that had been sorted before him, both of them sharing a grin, silently congratulating one another on surviving the Sorting.

"Darren Knight," said the boy, holding out his hand.

"Al Potter," responded Albus, shaking it. His hand was very cold, whereas Albus's was warm from excessively high blood flow. It made him wonder if Darren had been nervous about the Sorting at all.

Several more names were called in the next few minutes, until finally there were only two people left. Rose looked close to fainting. Albus wanted to somehow communicate with her that there was nothing to be afraid of, but she seemed unable to look at him anymore, as though staring at him would jinx her chances.

"Weasley, Rosalie."

Rose's entire body was shaking, and when she sat on the stool, it seemed like the very wood it was made of started shaking too. With trembling hands, she forced the hat onto her head. Albus watched with bated breath. Because the hat went even farther down on Rose than it had on him, it was impossible to make out her facial expressions to figure out what the hat was saying. Her hands, however, were clenched onto the stool she sat on, white as a ghost. They occasionally tensed even more than they already were so that the nerves in her hands stood out like paint. After what must have been a minute, the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Rose didn't hesitate; she threw the hat off her head and ran to their table.

"What took you so long?" Albus asked, giving her a hug as she took the seat next to him.

"Me?" said Rose. "It took you a while too! The hat just wasn't sure if I should be in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. I had to argue my point."

"What did you say?"

"That if the hat wanted me to live to see my second year, he'd better put me in Gryffindor."

Albus laughed, much more lighthearted now that the worst was over. As "Yaxley, Lauren" was put into Slytherin, he introduced Rose and Darren.

"Pleasure," said Darren, taking her hand and kissing it.

Rose flushed a brilliant shade of red to match her hair and muttered something about his action being highly unnecessary. Albus resisted the urge to punch Darren in the face.

There was more clinking of glass, and the woman in the middle of the staff table stood. To her belonged the stern voice that had announced the Sorting of the first years. "I welcome you all to another year at Hogwarts. For those who do not know, I am Professor McGonagall, the Headmistress. We shall go over announcements after the feast. For now, please enjoy yourselves to the fullest capacity."

As she sat down again, the empty golden plates on the tables filled with food, and the aroma emanating from them hit Albus just as suddenly. He had not realized how hungry he was until that moment. The plates were nearly overflowing with turkey, ham, and steak; sausages, bacon, potatoes, and fries; peas, carrots, green beans, and corn. He greedily reached for them, scooping several spoonfuls of everything onto his plate. He glanced over to the goblet in front of him and saw that it too was now full with what looked like pumpkin juice.

"Oh, look," said Rose, not long after they started eating. She was pointing at the staff table. "It's Neville!"

"Professor Longbottom now," Albus corrected, taking note. Professor Longbottom was no different than ever before. While his father had assured Albus that he was a great wizard, he had never seen anything to prove it. Indeed, in the few seconds that Albus watched his new professor, he knocked over his goblet, spilling its contents onto the woman next to him.

Albus was about to go back to his eating when such a chill went through him that he dropped his fork, clattering loudly onto his plate. Rose turned to ask what was wrong when the same feeling passed through her, as though a bucket of ice water had just been poured over her head. Both of them turned to the culprit.

"Good evening," said the ghost.

Albus knew who this must be immediately. He smiled back and said, "Nearly Headless Nick!"

The ghost looked slightly affronted. "I _prefer_—"

"Oh!" said Darren, eyes wide as he too dropped his fork with a clatter, though he was only staring at Nick. "You are a ghost!"

Nick cocked his head to the side in irritation, causing his head to almost fall off his neck. It hung by the merest thread of skin. "Of course I'm a ghost! What else would I be?"

Seeing Nick's annoyance, Darren quickly murmured an apology. Nick sighed and righted his head. "No, no, it's all right. You're a Muggle born?"

"No," Darren said, eyes on his food. "No, my mother is a witch."

"Oh." It was Nick's turn to be surprised. "Many students of non-magical birth come and are very surprised to see a ghost."

"My mother did not attend Hogwarts; she went to Salem. They have ghosts there as well, but I have never been in contact with one prior to tonight."

"Salem!" said Nick with interest. "I've visited there once, just when I was passing—"

But Rose, seeming unable to contain herself, cut in. "You're from _America_?"

Darren looked at her, smiling. "No, my mother is. I was born in Britain."

"Have you ever visited? I've always wanted to go, but my mother doesn't think I should start studying abroad until after I get out of Hogwarts. I keep saying I only want to visit, but I suppose she's right," mused Rose. "Once I was there, I wouldn't want to leave."

"I have been twice to see my mother's family. They live in Florida."

Rose immediately started talking excitedly about everything she had read about Florida, and Darren politely continued the conversation with her, an amused smile playing at his lips. Albus tried very hard to ignore them, but the image of wrestling Darren to the floor was repeatedly floating through his mind. It was a very enticing thought.

Somewhere in their conversation, the plates of food vanished again, only to be replaced by desserts. Some Albus recognized, like the treacle tart and jelly doughnuts, but others were new to his eyes. He cautiously tried a few, but was already so full after the feast that there was little room in his stomach for anything more. It was to Albus's relief that Rose seemed to have exhausted herself of anything more to say about Florida and continued to eat quietly. She would occasionally suck the end of her fork, a habit Albus recognized well. Whenever she was deep in thought about anything and had a utensil in her hand, she sucked on it as though it would help her to think better. Albus had been getting her Sugar Quills for Christmas for the last three years.

When the desserts vanished, Professor McGonagall stood again. She had lines on her face from where stress had made its permanent mark in addition to the natural wrinkles of age. Albus recalled his father saying that Professor McGonagall had taught him and that she was not one to cross. She was a fierce witch that was too fair – she never let people off just because they were in her own house. Now that she was Headmistress, however, Albus vaguely wondered if she would still be head of Gryffindor house or teach Transfiguration, like she had done when his father was at Hogwarts.

"I hope you all have enjoyed yourselves this evening. Now, I have some announcements that must be made. First, the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students." Her eyes flashed to the Gryffindor table, where James and his two friends were grinning at one another. "Second, visits to the village of Hogsmeade are forbidden to all but third years and above, and students must have signed permission slips from their parent or guardian in order to attend.

"Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that magic is not to be used in the corridors. There is also a list of forbidden items which can be found on his office door, which includes a blanket ban on all Weasley products, Fanged Frisbees, Dungbombs, and similar items."

Rose had a hint of a smile on her face at this. Her Uncle George was infamous in the magical world as owning the greatest joke shop in wizarding history. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had been added to numerous books, earning its reputation for not only laughs, but brilliant weapons that were commonly employed by the Ministry of Magic.

"Also, please note that Quidditch tryouts will be held the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team is encouraged to contact Madam Marin before that time."

"Madam Marin?" whispered Albus. "Mum always said Madam Hooch taught them how to fly."

"No, I looked up our professors before we came," Rose quietly responded, not taking her eyes off Professor McGonagall. "She's a referee for the Official European Quidditch League now."

"_You looked up our_—_?_"

"Quiet, Al!"

"Thank you for your attention. I'm sure you're all anxious to get to your dormitories. Please do not be late for breakfast tomorrow, as we will be handing out your new schedules. Goodnight!"

There was suddenly quite a lot of noise as students stood to head out to their dormitories. Albus did the same, a look of mingled uncertainty and apprehension on his face. He glanced at Rose, who looked just as unsure as he did.

"First years!" A boy and a girl from down the Gryffindor table were pushing toward them through the crowd. "Hey, you lot, over here!"

"_Jess_," the boy chided. "Be nicer to them!"

"What's it matter, they got the message! Are all of you here? All right, try not to trip over yourselves, don't gawk at the portraits, and keep moving! I'd like to get back to the common room before dawn."

The boy's hand flew up to his face, covering his look of exasperation. "Jessica, you can't speak to people like that!"

But she had already started walking towards the double doors leading out of the entrance hall. With a sigh, the boy followed, talking to the first years as he went. "I'm John, and that's Jessica. We're twins, and we're the Gryffindor prefects. If you have a problem, I'd recommend you came to me. She's not always like this, but she can be a bit snappy if she thinks you're wasting her time." He paused. "Which is most of the time."

They exited the Great Hall, Rose explaining everything as they walked. She was much more talkative now that the fear of the Sorting had passed. "That was the Great Hall, we'll be eating there for every meal, and this is the Entrance Hall. Yes, it's quite large, isn't it? Mum told me to read _Hogwarts, A History_, and of course it has several pictures, so I knew what everything was going to look like before we came. And these staircases, they look quite solid, don't they? Don't be fooled, Al, they move frequently and it's easy to get lost if you don't know your way around. Oh, see, up there? That one's moving!"

Albus looked up and, sure enough, a staircase about three floors above them was moving to the next corridor over.

Rose continued to enlighten him about the different intricacies of Hogwarts until everyone came to a stop. It seemed to Albus as though she was trying to recite the entire book _Hogwarts, A History _to him before they reached the common room. Once they were in front of the portrait guarding Gryffindor common room, however, she silenced herself.

They had caught up with the blond girl named Jessica. She had a haughty expression and quick eyes that sought out her brother instantly. "Taking your sweet time, were you?"

"You could've gone in," he responded smoothly, undoubtedly with much experience as to dealing with his sister.

"And been harassed because I'm not doing my job?" she snapped. "That's all I need!"

With a last glare, she turned on the spot to face the painting. Within it was a very fat woman in a silk pink dress. The Fat Lady eyed the girl with distaste. "Password?"

"_Kelpie_," Jessica said.

The portrait swung open to reveal a round hole in the wall, through which first Jessica climbed through, then her brother, and then each of the first years in turn. They entered a large room decorated primarily with red and gold. There were chintz armchairs by a roaring fire, which were occupied by two people at that moment, talking in whispers.

With a nervous glance, the girls separated from the boys and followed Jessica up a spiral staircase. Rose gave Albus a last smile of farewell and darted away.

The boys followed John up a separate spiral staircase. Through the window they passed on the way, Albus could see they were very high in the castle, undoubtedly in one of the towers. John led the group of boys to a door, the third one on their left, and departed to his own dormitory.

Albus was surprised to find his trunk already at the foot of his bed; he had never bothered to ask his father how his luggage got there after leaving it to get on the boats. He walked over to his four-poster, which was draped with velvet red curtains. He glanced around at the other boys in the room, who were also taking in their surroundings.

"This is nice, is it not?" said Darren, who had the bed to Albus's left.

Albus merely nodded, still slightly bitter toward Darren for his open flirtation with Rose. He was very defensive of her, and suddenly felt the need to protect her from this boy that was trying to get close to her.

"I like it," said a tall black boy to Albus's right. "I'm Marcus Shacklebot, by the way."

"Al Potter."

"Darren Knight."

"Josh Hastings." Josh was a tall blond boy, very tan with charming blue eyes.

"Brandon Fields." Brandon had a slightly muscular build, as though he did a fair bit of working out, with matching brown hair and eyes.

"I suppose we shall be seeing one another quite frequently then," said Darren with a smile.

"Yeah, don't we all have the same classes together too?" asked Marcus.

"Yes," said Albus, recalling something his father had said to him. "We don't get to choose our classes until third year."

"Bummer," said Josh, falling onto his bed and throwing his arms behind his head. "It's gonna suck if we don't get along."

"Don't start thinking negatively!" said Marcus immediately, taking a seat on his bed and looking closer at it. "We've got two years of each other, let's not start it off bad. That won't bode well for any of us."

Albus privately agreed and resisted the urge to look pointedly at Darren.

"We ought to get some sleep," said Darren, pulling out his pajamas from his trunk. "I doubt tomorrow will be pleasant for us."

Seeing the wisdom in his words, the boys began changing clothes, Albus's thoughts on the boy next to him. What was so great about him? Rose had gotten all flushed like she'd never seen anything like him. He was a prat, and that was all. He was pale, so pale Albus wouldn't have been surprised if he started glowing in the dark. To top that, he had dark hair combed to perfection; it must've taken him hours of staring at himself in the mirror to get it that perfect, not a hair out of place.

Albus shut the curtains around himself and curled up in his four-poster, which was surprisingly warm from the moment he touched it. He tried to relax himself, let the warmth flow through him and calm his mind. There was a lot to be happy about – he was in Gryffindor, for one.

_"Brave, like your father… I see you have a lot of your father in you…_"

A smile curled Albus's lips as he drifted off to sleep.


	3. Potions

Albus waited a few minutes for Rose in the common room before she finally came down. In the meantime, he occupied himself with looking at the flyers on the notice board. Quidditch tryouts were the second week of term, and while Albus knew he couldn't try out because he was a first year, he planned on attending anyway. James had talked of little else all summer, and Albus would like to see how his brother did when he tried out for Seeker. Their parents had promised to buy him a new broomstick if he made the team, and that was to Albus's benefit; he knew that he would be able to sneak rides on it when James wasn't hogging it. Next to the Quidditch tryouts was the date for the first Hogsmeade weekend, which he couldn't attend, and partially covering that was a list of missing items. That made Albus's eyes widen – someone had lost things already? Albus was by no means neat, but he could at least confine his belongings to a general space so they weren't completely lost.

"Ready for breakfast?" Rose said cheerfully as she appeared next to him.

As they walked down to the Great Hall, Albus quickly found that without Rose's guidance, he would be utterly lost. She seemed to have memorized some map of the castle that he assumed was in the Hogwarts book she kept telling him about because she was constantly correcting his direction. He almost wondered whether she really knew where she was going, but they arrived in the Great Hall seemingly without getting off track. Albus was very thankful they would have the same classes.

While he ate a breakfast of warm eggs and bacon, he listened to chatter around him. People discussed themselves for the most part, getting to know their neighbors. Darren, who had already had enough attention about his heritage from the night before, listened to the others discuss their history. Marcus's parents were both magical; Josh's father was a Muggle, his mother a witch; and Brandon's parents were both non-magical. Valerie, a pretty girl with dark hair that was a first year Gryffindor as well, told an intriguing story about how her parents had tried to hex one another upon their first meeting even though both of them were Squibs.

The talk dissipated, however, as the owl post arrived. Hundreds of owls flew through the Great Hall carrying letters and packages of all sizes, sending forgotten items and wishes of luck on the first day of classes. Albus was pleasantly surprised to see that his honey-colored owl, Casper, had mail for him already. A letter with his name on it in his father's familiar scrawl dropped in front of him. Albus petted Casper gratefully, and the owl snatched up a piece of sausage in his beak before soaring off again.

As Albus attempted to open the letter, however, another dropped in front of him. This one, too, had his name written on it, though he could not identify the handwriting. He glanced over at Rose, who had a letter written in the identical writing. They exchanged a curious look.

"They don't give us our schedules through owls, do they?" Albus asked uncertainly.

"No, that would be quite impractical. Everyone hasn't got an owl," Rose said, setting aside the letter from her parents to inspect the unfamiliar one. She turned it over for a moment, as though expecting something else to be on there, before sliding open the envelope. Albus turned to his own and followed her example. It read:

_Dear Mr. Potter, It is my pleasure to invite you to a special meeting of your peers for which only a select group of you have been singled out. Please accept this invitation and be aware that the first meeting will be held tomorrow night in my office. Sincerely, Professor Slughorn_

"Oh, so you _did_ get one of those!" said a familiar voice over Albus's shoulder. He jumped; he had not realized anyone was there. "I thought you might, 'cause of me and dad and all."

"What are you talking about?" Albus asked, wheeling around to face his brother.

"I got one last year, been going to the meetings ever since," said James nonchalantly. "He's completely mental, of course, only wants to be pampered for the rest of his life, but he's got a lot of connections, Professor Slughorn. You should go, you never know when it might be of some use to you. I personally don't think the usual meetings have any point, but you gotta show face if you want to reap the rewards. He knows Gwenog Jones, did you know? I'm hoping he'll introduce me and get me started on a Quidditch team."

"But James, you don't even know if you'll make the _school_ Quidditch team, much less a _national_ team!" said Rose.

"Oh, ye of little faith," said James dramatically and walked back to his seat with a smirk.

"Oh!" said Rose angrily. "Your brother is a pompous, arrogant imbecile, you know that, Al?"

Albus hastily took a large bite of his eggs and murmured something indiscernible. Rose was quite right, of course, but agreeing with any conviction could result in her going on for hours.

"It really makes me hope he _doesn't_ make the team," she said with a glare in James's direction. Then she sighed and shook her head, turning back to her half-eaten breakfast. "But of course he will. I've seen him, he's good, and he's your father's son, after all."

Albus quickly swallowed. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Your dad," said Rose. "He was the youngest Seeker in a century. My father told me a week ago or so when I was prattling on about James being all talk."

"Really?" said Albus, and a small knot formed in his stomach. Why hadn't he known this? "My dad always told me he'd been really good at Quidditch, but he never mentioned that."

"No, I don't suppose he would," said Rose unconcernedly. "He's very modest, your dad, isn't he?"

"I guess," said Albus with a shrug. "I've never thought about it."

He then spotted the letter from his parents sitting half-opened next to his plate. He picked it up, unfolded it, and read:

_Hey, Al! Hoping you get this letter before your classes start. Lily was ridiculous after we left the platform, tried to demand that we take her to Hogwarts via broomstick. She even tried to steal one out of the shed, we've had to lock it magically. (By the way, you should learn that spell and the one to unlock doors. Both helped me when I was at Hogwarts!) Your mom and I wish you the best of luck at school today, and don't let James pull anything on you when you're not looking. Let us know how your classes go! Love, Dad and Mum_

_P.S. No matter what you may hear today, I have only looked out for your best interests and I love you more than anything in the world._

Albus reread the letter, and then stared at the postscript for a full minute more. No matter what he might hear today? What was that about? He passed the note to Rose, who was peering indiscreetly over his shoulder anyway.

"What you may hear?" Rose said. "What's he talking about?"

"I don't know," said Albus, just as nonplussed as she was.

"Hmm," was the only comment Rose made, and she had no more time to speak as Professor Swift suddenly appeared next to them, passing out schedules.

"Here you'll find your classes and their locations," he said in his cheery, good-natured voice. "If you have any trouble locating them, that's not an excuse for tardiness, I'm afraid. Find a ghost, they're usually more than happy to help. I'd recommend staying away from the Bloody Baron if you can, though," he added with a wink before moving on to the second years.

Albus looked over his schedule and then glanced at Rose's, checking to make sure they were definitely the same.

"Potions, Charms, and double Herbology," said Rose, looking at Monday's schedule. "That isn't so bad! We get to see Nev—I mean, Professor Longbottom today!"

Albus returned her smile. "That's good. I always pictured Mondays to be the worst."

"I think they usually are, but they may go easy on us because we're first years," said Marcus, who was sitting across from Albus.

Rose made a skeptical look from behind her schedule but otherwise said nothing. Albus understood, though – Rose would hate the thought of professors "going easy on her" as she was eager to prove that she could keep up with the best of them.

"We should probably go to Potions. Who teaches that again?" said Albus, standing.

"Professor Slughorn," said Darren in his quiet, melodic voice. Albus barely spared a glance for him, not having quite forgiven him for his slight the night before. Darren had been gone before Albus got up that morning, and seeing him now, it made Albus grimace. He looked perfectly perfect again today, and Albus scowled the idea of what time he must have woken up to get himself ready and still be out of the dorm before anyone else woke up.

The Gryffindor first years traveled in a pack today, giving Albus time to notice who else was in his year. Rose commented for him in low tones with a suspicious glance when he mentioned that he didn't know any of the girls.

"The girl with the dark hair is Valerie, you must remember her Squib story from breakfast, though I'm afraid it's the most interesting thing she's said so far. The redhead is Rachel, she seems a bit of a priss if you ask me. Daria is the girl with light brown hair, but she hasn't got an ounce of creativity in her body, and the blond is Iris; she's okay, not very pretty, and not your type."

Albus spoke incoherently for a moment, surprise etched into his features, before spluttering, "I didn't say anything about wanting someone my type!"

"Oh," said Rose frostily. "In that case, they're all lovely girls."

And she stalked off ahead of him to immerse Darren in conversation.

Albus was still trying to fathom the workings of the female mind, something his father assured him he would be doing for the rest of his life, when they reached Potions. It was held in the cold dungeons on the level below the Great Hall where they were surrounded by unwelcoming gray walls and had their paths lit only by torches. Fortunately, Rose seemed to have gotten over whatever had been ailing her, and she took the seat next to the Albus.

"Excuse me," said Darren, "but may I sit next to you?"

The question was clearly directed at Rose, though his glance at Albus signaled a desire for his approval too. Albus resisted the way his lips pulled down in an attempt at a scowl – he wanted Albus's _consent_ to sit next to Rose and probably flirt with her the entire class? Fat chance.

"Yes, of course," said Rose with a smile. Seeing as how Darren's eyes had moved toward Albus now, however, she turned to face her best friend. "He can, can't he, Albus?" Her tone was polite, but her eyes held some of that fiery emotion that his mother sometimes had when she was asking him to do something – something that wasn't a suggestion.

Albus shrugged and looked pointedly at the front of the class. He peripherally sensed the chair next to Rose being soundlessly pulled back so that Darren could sit in it. He stared harder at Professor Slughorn's desk, which would probably have burst into flames had looks been able to kill. He was very surprised then when he received a tap on his shoulder from directly behind him and turned to see Darren standing there.

"Could I have a word please?"

Albus's eyes probably revealed his shock, but he nodded curtly and stood, following Darren outside the classroom. Rose watched them go with her eyebrows furrowed together in a piercing line across her forehead. Darren held the door open for Albus and then shut it behind him. Albus crossed his arms as Darren turned to face him.

"I was wondering… what I did to upset you," Darren started.

Albus glared. "I'm not upset with you."

"Al—"

"Albus."

"Albus," said Darren with a frustrated look, "I know I did something, but I am unaware what it is. Please enlighten me."

Albus scowled again. "Just stay away from Rose."

"Rose?" said Darren, his surprise evident.

"Yeah, Rose!" said Albus, his voice rising slightly, his arms uncrossing. "None of this kissing her or flirting with her or… or touching her!"

Darren looked very taken aback now. "My apologies, I meant neither of you any insult. I have behaved as I normally do around ladies. I was raised to treat them with the utmost respect. I will kiss the hand, hold open the door, and assist any lady in any manner I can."

Albus's face showed a look of concentration. "Any girl?"

"Any lady," Darren repeated.

"So then… this isn't… it wasn't just… you didn't…?"

Darren looked expecting, as though waiting for him to finish one of those sentences.

"You don't like her?" Albus finally settled on.

"Most certainly I do," said Darren. "I think she is a lovely lady. However, I have no intention to, ah, _date_ her, if that is what you mean."

Albus sighed in relief. "Good. I was afraid I'd have to go big brother on you."

"What?" said James, nonplussed.

"Rose is the oldest in her family, she doesn't have a big brother to take care of her. I'm her best friend and as much like a brother as she's got. I'm not letting anybody close to her that I don't like." He crossed his arms again in emphasis.

Darren smiled. "Then we are friends, Albus?"

Albus hesitated for a moment, then said, "Al."

Darren's smile widened.

Hurried footsteps met their ears then, and they turned to see Professor Slughorn hurrying down the corridor, a wide cauldron clutched in his hands. "Boys, boys, what are you doing? We're late as it is! Inside now, go on!"

Darren held open the door for Slughorn, who had no arms to spare, and followed Albus back to their seats. Rose looked at each of them quizzically, but Albus shook his head and watched Slughorn place the cauldron at the front of the room. All eyes watched him as he bustled about his desk for a moment, arranged a few things, and then smiled up at them all.

"Good morning! I hope you all are very excited to begin your education here at Hogwarts. Strive to do your best and who knows, you may be as famous as some of my previous students! And if you do, don't forget me in the future." He winked. "Now, who can tell me what this potion is?"

Rose's hand shot into the air so fast that Albus swore he got whiplash.

"Oh, yes, you're Miss Weasley, aren't you? And – why, we've got a table full of prodigies over here! Mr. Knight, Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, already found out you're the geniuses, have you? Outstanding! Now, what is this potion, Miss Weasley?"

Albus puzzled over Slughorn's words, paying Rose's answer no mind. The geniuses of the class? Where had Slughorn gotten that idea? Albus had never been allowed to touch a potion in his life; _he_ had no idea how good he was going to be at this class, so how on earth did Slughorn?

"... Mr. Potter?"

Albus jolted back into the present conversation at the sound of his name. "Er, sorry?"

"I was saying that since you're father is a potions prodigy, you must know the name of the potion to stabilize a werewolf when it is the full moon?"

Rose was staring at him with an incredibly intense look, as though trying to burn the answer into his brain. At the moment, he wished she could.

"I don't know."

Slughorn looked disappointed. "Mr. Knight?"

Rose rounded on him, but before she could so much as look at him, he had answered, "The Wolfsbane Potion."

"Remarkable!" said Slughorn happily. "Now, the Wolfsbane Potion is much too difficult for first years to attempt. It had two pages worth of ingredients plus another page of directions in almost every text and is far too complex for all but the most accomplished potioneers. It is something we won't even begin to discuss until your NEWTs. I want you to get an idea now at what you will be able to accomplish in seven years should you choose to stay with Potions that long. It is a daunting task, potions this complex, but one with unprecedented rewards! For today, however, I want you to start with something simple: a Swelling Solution. Turn to page 11 and follow the directions as best you can. I will be coming around to correct your techniques. The best potion at the end of class will receive top marks. Begin!"

Albus pulled out his potion's book and the ingredients he had bought in the Apothecary. He turned to page 11 and stared at the page, biting his lower lip. Slughorn said it was simple, but as Albus had mixed no more than a cup of tea in his life, even this looked very complex. He stared at the page for a full minute before realizing he hadn't taken in a word. He glanced over at Rose, whose potion was already a shimmering purple. With a mental smack, Albus refocused on his book.

Slughorn started on the opposite end of the room, though he continuously glanced over at Darren, Rose, and Albus, as though he were saving the best for last. Indeed, he probably thought he was, but Albus was well aware that his Swelling Solution was more likely to turn them all into tadpoles than make things larger. As they had Potions with the Hufflepuffs, Albus didn't feel too horrible, however; Slughorn was constantly correcting them on one thing or another. In fact, Rose and Darren seemed the only ones getting anywhere with their potions. Albus continuously looked over at them, desperate for some help, but Rose only whispered that if he read the directions properly he should be fine. That was easy for her to say – her potion was the cool blue it was supposed to be. Albus's solution was a cheery, sunshine yellow that served only to darken his mood.

When Slughorn finally reached their table, he grinned excitedly at Darren's potion, which was a slightly darker shade of blue than Rose's. "Wonderful, wonderful! This is excellent! I bet you stirred in the lacewings at exactly the right moment for it to be this shade of blue. And Miss Weasley! Fabulous! Did you stir if four times clockwise, and then three counterclockwise?"

"Yes," said Rose with an unmistakable air of pride.

"Outstanding! And... oh my." He looked at his Albus's potion, and his face grew downcast. He looked up again with a fake smile. "Not quite got your father's touch, eh?"

"I don't think my father is very good at potions," said Albus with a glance down at the yellow liquid in his cauldron. His mother would never let his father near her cauldron.

"Nonsense, m'boy, nonsense! One of the most gifted students I've ever known! Well, he had to be, of course, with all the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named business, but—"

"_Excuse_ me?" Rose interrupted. Then she suddenly threw a hand over her mouth, as though she'd just spoken blasphemy. Rose would normally never interrupt a teacher like that.

"What, my dear girl?"

"Uhm," said Rose, much more meekly now that she felt the guilt of disrupting him. "Lord Voldemort, sir?"

Slughorn flinched so bad he almost sent Darren's potion to the floor. Luckily, Darren had quick reflexes that caught the cauldron before it went off the desk.

"Don't say his name!" said Slughorn quickly. Rose looked taken aback, and Slughorn considered her for a moment before speaking again. "Yes, your mother wasn't afraid to say his name either. I learned the whole story afterwards, how she helped Harry Potter in defeating You-Know-Who. Never left his side. A brave woman, your mother. Your father too. They were all best friends at Hogwarts, never saw one without the other two. None of them came back for their seventh year because they were on the run as fugitives, fleeing from the corrupted Ministry and working to defeat You-Know-Who. Exceptional wizards – and witch, of course. Miss Granger and Mr. Potter were phenomenal potioneers, and I had rather hoped you both would inherit their talents. I see it wasn't all in the genetics…" He gave the merest half-glance towards Albus. "But nonetheless – ah, that's the bell! No homework for today, but be ready for an essay over the weekend!"

And he hurried out of the room after that.

While the students collected their belongings, there was a slight buzzing among the students as they gave Albus and Rose sneaky glances on the way out of the classroom. Darren made to stand, but when neither Rose nor Albus followed him, he sat back down.

"What is it?" he asked, looking at them both with concern.

Albus and Rose had identical looks of shock on their face. Words failed them.

After a moment, Darren's eyes widened in amazement as he understood. "Are you saying – you mean – _you never knew_?"

Albus numbly felt in his robes pocket for the letter his father had sent him that morning. _No matter what you may hear today, I have only looked out for your best interests and I love you more than anything in the world._ His fingers curled around the parchment, and there was a crackling of paper as he crushed it in his hand.

---

A/N: For my own personal benefit and any interested readers, I found actors to portray the characters. If you want a face to associate with the names, you can see them here (without the spaces): http://s185. photobucket. com/albums/x159/DiaRiles/Renew/


	4. A Web of Lies

As Albus passed the windows on his way to Charms, he noticed dark clouds hanging over the castle. He thought it was quite appropriate, given his current mood. Rose, through her silence and continuous glare, seemed to agree. Darren remained quiet behind them. He had offered a few words of comfort at first, but had given up fairly quickly. Neither Albus nor Rose was responding well to his sentiments.

It was inconceivable to believe that his father had _saved the world_ and not told him. Ridiculous. Absurd. _Insane!_ It wasn't like that was the kind of thing that just slipped one's mind. Why had he kept it from him? Surely it would've made for entertaining bedtimes stories at least, more interesting than _The Beedle and the Bard_ that his father often borrowed from Rose's mother to read to him and Lily. What was the purpose in hiding it from Albus for so long? His father had obviously known that he would find out when he came to Hogwarts. Why hadn't he said anything? Why had he left Albus in the dark?

And he was the only one, he realized suddenly. Even Scorpius Malfoy knew. _"Ooh, has daddy made you feel like you're someone important? Just because your father did some 'helpful' stuff for the wizarding world doesn't mean you can walk all over everyone."_

He had the sudden urge to punch someone.

The trio walked into Charms, which they found they had with the Ravenclaws. As they had dawdled leaving Potions, there was only one table left open. It already held one occupant – Aeron Lovegood. Albus gave Aeron a sharp nod and sat down next to him, Rose taking the seat next to him, and Darren sitting on the end.

"Hello," Aeron said, eyeing Albus and Rose. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," Albus snapped.

"There's no need to be rude," Aeron said mildly, entertaining himself by fiddling with the bracelet of radishes on his wrist.

Darren looked from Albus and Rose's faces to Aeron. "Sorry," he said, apparently feeling the need to explain their behavior. "They just got some bad news."

"Oh?" Aeron said, looking over to Darren. He studied him for several moments with interested eyes. Then he gave a knowing smile and said, "It must have been dreadful."

Albus cringed at Aeron's expression. What the hell was his problem? Did he take some kind of pleasure in other people's pain? Albus knew he was weird, but there was no need to be a jerk on top of that. No wonder he was sitting alone. "It's none of your business."

"I'm just making conversation," Aeron said airily. "Don't take it out on me."

The way Aeron spoke calmed Albus, but only slightly. It wasn't as though Aeron was angry, just stating the fact that Albus was acting like a git. He dug through his bag and pulled out his Charms book, slamming it on the table as he did so. "My dad is a hero and he never told me."

"No?" Aeron said in that same airy voice. "That's interesting."

"It is _not_ interesting," Albus snapped. He opened his mouth to say more, but there was suddenly a very loud tapping from the front of the room. He turned forward, any trace of feeling better gone.

At first, he didn't realize where the noise had come from. Then he spotted the short man at the front of the room, a dwarf if Albus ever saw one, tapping his wand against the desk. He cleared his throat when silence followed and spoke in a cracked voice marked with age. "Hello! I am Professor Flitwick, and this is where we'll be learning all about Charms! Let me go over the roster quickly and then we can begin with our first lesson!"

He walked around his desk and disappeared for several moments before suddenly popping up from behind it. Albus wondered for several moments how he could see over it before realizing he was obviously standing on something.

Going through roll with Flitwick was not a quick task, despite what he said it would be. Every few names, he would pause to chat with the student. For some, like Darren, he just looked up with a smile and said he was pleased to be teaching them. For others, like Aeron, he would comment on the origin of their names or tell a story about their parents, all whom he was undoubtedly old enough to have taught. With his frightening shock of white hair, he reminded Albus of Albert Einstein, that muggle nutter. If it weren't for his overwhelmingly pleasant demeanor that permeated his every word, Albus would've labeled him Lily's favorite insult: "an old fruitcake." His sister hated fruitcake, and was thus quite partial to the phrase.

Predictably, when he reached "Potter, Albus," he looked up with a bright expression. Albus didn't even have time to say he was present; Flitwick's eyes found him within a moment. "Ah, _there_ you are! Your parents were excellent at Charms, both got Es on their OWLs if I'm not mistaken. Not that test scores matter much when you've defeated the greatest dark wizard of all time! Good to see you, good to see you!"

Albus tried to force a smile.

When he hit Rose's name, he had something to say too. "Miss Weasley! How did I know you'd be sitting next to Mr. Potter?" His eyes twinkled. "It was a real pleasure to teach your mother. Had one of the highest test scores I've ever seen! I'm sure you'll do well with her genes."

Rose's face went pink, though she still looked more like she was grimacing than smiling. As soon as Flitwick's eyes left her, she turned her gaze down to stare at the desk.

When Flitwick finished the roster, he jumped back down to the floor and went to the front of his desk again. "Now, the first thing you need to know in any class where you will be using your wand is proper wand movements. If you don't move your wand properly in concurrence with the spell you're trying to cast, it won't work. I'm sure you've all heard of Detrick the Dumb – he jabbed and poked and choked in the smoke! Now, I'll be showing you some more common wand movements today. Everyone, please take out your wands, but don't say any incantations. Just repeat after me and move your wands as I do. Ready everyone? First, _swish_ and _flick_." He demonstrated with his own wand. "Now, you try."

"_Swish_ and _flick_," Albus growled. He moved his wand as Flitwick had done.

"Good! Now, _up_ and _forward_." Flitwick's arm stretched straight so that his wand pointed at the ceiling for the briefest moment before falling to face straight at Daria, who looked utterly terrified that a wand was being pointed within thirty feet of her. His arm was still fully extended. "Your turn!"

The class chanted, "_Up_ and _forward_ – OUCH!"

Many of the students in the class had just been hit upside the head from the wand of the person sitting behind them.

"Be careful! Now try again _without_ hurting one another."

Albus didn't find it to be a particularly interesting first class and was grateful when the bang rang to signal the end of it. He and Rose immediately grabbed their bags, throwing them over their shoulders and heading for the door. Darren, apparently expecting them to hang around for several minutes as before, lagged behind.

"Goodbye, then," Aeron said unconcernedly as they left.

When he caught up with them, Darren was silent once again. A single glance at their still-furious faces made it clear they were not in a better mood. They ate lunch this way, Albus looking more like he was waging war against his food, the way he kept stabbing his fork at it, than actually eating it. Rose sent him annoyed glances whenever he missed and scraped the plate, but he ignored her.

Halfway towards Herbology, Darren half-heartedly tried to coerce them into talking again. "Charms was an interesting class, was it not?"

"No," Albus said shortly.

Rose, however, looked over at Darren, seeming surprised by the fact that he was there. She scrutinized him for several moments before heaving a long sigh. "It wasn't very enlightening for me. I read all about wand movements before I came."

Albus peered over at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to make it seem like he was still looking forward. Was she past their parents' blunder already? He'd thought they had a silent agreement to be bitter and angry the rest of the day. Then again, she was looking at Darren with something close to pity in her eyes. Perhaps she was feeling bad for the way they were treating him. Then again, he ought to be more understanding; they had only discovered the greatest deception of all time.

"It was still good to see it," Darren said eagerly now that someone was talking to him. "The pictures in the book were not as good as seeing Professor Flitwick show it to us."

"Yes, that's true," Rose mused quietly.

"All I've got to say is that Herbology had better be more interesting or I'm ditching," Albus said flatly.

"You can't ditch, it's the first day!" Rose said quickly. "And besides – _Neville!_"

"I don't care if Neville _is_ the teacher, he's –"

"No, Al – _Neville_!" Rose had stopped walking now and was staring at him with wide eyes. "He went to school with your dad! We can ask him about what happened!"

Albus's eyes widened too, and for a moment all they could do was stare at each other. Then Albus quickly grabbed Rose's arm and started walking forward at a faster pace. Rose struggled to stay with him, but Darren had longer legs and kept the pace easily.

"You mean Professor Longbottom?" he asked.

"Yes," Albus said, suddenly feeling energized. Neville would tell them what was going on. He would explain why his father hadn't told Albus the truth. Neville always helped them do things they shouldn't, like sneak a cookie away while his mother wasn't looking and use magic to help them with chores when they were being punished. He would explain everything.

They had left Charms first and then put on a great deal of speed, so they arrived at Charms long before anyone else. They entered Greenhouse 1, where they would be learning about plants all year, to find Neville potting a purplish-green plant in an empty pot. He looked up when he heard the door slam behind them and grinned at them.

"Hey, it's good to see you! I'm just finishing up this Sodameech Plant and I'll –"

"Why didn't you ever tell us about my father?" Albus cut him off.

Neville's face went bright red. "W-what do you mean?"

"Oh, don't give us that rubbish," Rose snapped. "You know exactly what he means. Fleeing from the Ministry of Magic. Defeating Lord Voldemort. _Saving the world._"

Neville rubbed the back of his neck with his dirtied gloves covering his hands. He bit his lower lip, which they meant knew he was choosing his words very carefully. "Well… your father didn't think you should know about all that until you got to Hogwarts."

"Why?" Albus asked angrily.

"You should talk to your parents about this. They can probably explain everything better than I can," Neville said hastily, returning to his plant.

"Neville, we know you know," Albus said sternly. "Tell us."

Neville glanced up at them, his eyes searching theirs, before sighing. "I can't."

"You can't what?"

"Tell you."

Rose looked affronted. "And why not?"

"Well… I had to promise not to."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… Harry made me promise I wouldn't say anything."

"He made you promise to _lie_ to us?" Rose asked incredulously.

"No! He just made me promise that when you guys asked me why no one ever told you, as he knew you would do, I wouldn't say anything."

Albus's jaw dropped. "You mean even now that we know, you _still_ can't tell us _why_ we can't know?"

"Right," Neville said after a moment, having worked out what Albus said.

"That's ridiculous!" Rose burst, stamping her foot on the ground. "I can't believe they would do this to us, leaving us completely unaware and then refusing to give us any information—"

"Wait, wait, that's not what I said!" Neville interjected. "I said _I_ can't tell you anything. Your parents will, though."

"When?" Albus said promptly.

"When you ask them."

"When we – _when we ask them_?" Albus raged. "Oh, so all we had to do this whole time was _ask them_ if they'd saved the world from any evil dark wizards lately! Wow, why didn't we think of _that_?"

"This isn't my fault!" Neville said pleadingly. "Your parents wanted to tell you of their own accord."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure they just forgot to mention it," he said acidly.

"No, of course they didn't tell you on purpose. They want you to write them and ask why they didn't tell you."

There was a moment of silence, then, "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

"Honestly, Albus. Your parents made me promise not to say anything because they want the chance to explain it to you themselves."

"Well, they're out of luck," he said, glaring at the floor. "'Cause I'm never writing to them again!"

Rose glowered steadily at Neville.

"C'mon, guys," Neville pleaded. "It was for the best… you should write them at least to find out why!"

"Why they lied to us our entire lives? Why they let us think they were no different than anyone else when they actually saved the entire world from utter chaos?" Rose said icily.

"Yes, that!" Neville said, his voice rising. "You can keep taking this out on me, but I'm not telling you anything. You'll have to write to your parents if you want to know the truth. James was angry too at first. He actually sent them a Howler last year when he found out."

Albus's head snapped up. "What?"

"Your brother sent them a Howler. Luckily you and Lily were at Rose's grandfather's at the time, so you didn't hear him shouting. Harry told me it put Ginny in a right state, though. She felt awful, wanted to tell you and Lily that night. Harry wouldn't have it, though. They hadn't kept it from you for so long for nothing."

At that moment, the door to the greenhouse flew open and a couple of students walked in. Albus opened his mouth to say something, but then snapped it shut and walked over to an empty pot on the table as far away from Neville as he could find. He dropped his backpack on the floor, heard a nasty _crack_ that was probably one of his potions vials, and stood glaring at a piece of dirt on the floor as there were no chairs in here.

Albus had completely forgotten, hadn't realized. It wasn't just his father and mother who had betrayed his trust. _James_. His brother had lied to him too. Maybe not directly lied, but he certainly didn't see the need to put Albus in the loop. He had known for a whole year, and he'd never bothered to write Albus a letter and let him know that their parents were raving lunatics who kept important things from their children. They'd spent the entire summer together, rooms right next to one another the whole time. They'd learned Morse Code, a Muggle way of communicating through dots and dashes, so that they could talk to one another after bedtime by quietly tapping on the walls separating them. They'd spent countless nights on Rose's living room futon, right next to one another. He'd even seen him on the _train_. At _breakfast_ this morning! And still, his brother had never told him that their father was a renowned wizard in their world. But why?

The door to the greenhouse opened again, and this time two familiar figures walked through: a tall, blond boy and his pale, dark-haired friend.

"Malfoy and Andrews," Rose hissed.

Almost as though they had heard her, they turned to look at the trio in unison. A smirk crawled up Scorpius's face, and he nudged Lucas and nodded toward them. Lucas didn't change his stoic expression, but started walking toward them. The two of them took the table in front of Albus, Rose, and Darren.

"Well, Potter," Malfoy drawled, "what a pleasant surprise."

"Shove it, Malfoy," Albus snapped.

"Tetchy." He smirked. "What's got you in such a bad mood?"

"I'm noticing your face does it pretty fast."

"Ooh, careful, Potter. I'd hate to see _your_ face get any uglier. Your mother might not be able to stand the sight of you."

"Are you _trying_ to get yourself expelled?" Rose said. "There are three of us and two of you, in case you haven't noticed. How would it be if you went to the Hospital Wing your first day?"

"Lucas and I could handle you without a problem," Malfoy said easily. "See, Weasley, you'd sit out because you wouldn't risk getting expelled. Your mummy would kill you. Potter would try, but I could take him out in my sleep. And as for _him_," Malfoy nodded to Darren with a devilish smile crawling up his cheeks, "I've already heard the stories about him. Some giggling Hufflepuffs in my last class couldn't stop saying how _handsome_ he was, how _smart_ he was, such a _gentleman_. Even if he tried to fight us, he'd be no threat."

Darren growled and his eyes flashed. "Would you like to put that to the test?"

"Oh, _would_ I," Malfoy said, leaning forward. He opened his mouth to say more, but Neville started speaking loudly from the front of the room. Instead, he closed his mouth, gave them another smirk, and turned around.

"Hello, everyone! I'm Professor Longbottom. Now, everyone's here, right? Okay. Well, there's a lot to know about Herbology, but unfortunately, it's mostly stuff you have to learn by experience. There's very little beginners information I can give you other than to never underestimate a plant. Some of them can be dangerous – even deadly. Just because it looks like an innocent flower…" he held up what looked like a daisy, "doesn't mean it is." Several people gasped as the daisy's petals suddenly turned razor sharp and jabbed at his head. Neville, experienced, avoided the attack and set the daisy down on the table behind him, where it returned to its innocuous appearance.

"Don't worry, I won't be giving you anything deadly this year, but that doesn't mean we won't be dealing with some dangerous plants. I'd rather no one got hurt this year, if that's even possible." He grimaced at some painful memories.

"What I've learned over the years is that many first years don't know a thing about plants. Planting them, growing them, anything. So today, we're going to do a quick rundown in planting basics before trying them with real plants. In front of you, there's a pot, a small bag of soil, and a fake plant. I want you to follow my lead and pay close attention, because these are things you'll need to know in order to plant other, living things we'll be dealing with this year. Now first, look over your pot…"

Albus stopped listening despite Neville's insistence that he focus. He was in a foul mood to begin with, and learning to pot a fake plant was not high on his list of priorities. He first started thinking about the secret that everyone had kept from him, but he had been over this so many times during lunch that there was little left still to dwell on. Instead, he imagined meeting up with Malfoy and Andrews late at night for a duel. He, Rose, and Darren obviously won the fight, each of them casting spells with increasingly funny effects, like setting Andrews's hair on fire and making Malfoy's wand beat him over the head.

When class was over, Albus had somehow managed to pot his plant, though he would have no idea how to do it again the next time Neville asked. He found he was in a slightly more cheerful mood until he saw Rose's solemn expression and felt his spirits fall. His mind turned back to the cause of her distress, and he remembered James's betrayal. As they walked out into the mud, for it had rained since they'd been in Herbology, Albus decided to corner James and force him into explaining himself that night in the common room. If James didn't have an excellent reason for assisting in his parent's deception, he was going to regret ever learning about it.


	5. The Collector

The fire crackled merrily next to him, despite whatever foul mood he was in. The weather had been so nice as to accommodate him today, but the flames seemed oblivious to his wishes. Albus sat in the fluffy red armchair near the fire, having eyed it for a full hour before its previous occupant left it. Darren had had to wait even longer for the couch, as a sixth year couple seemed too immersed in their make-out session to move, or indeed realize that there was anyone else in the room.

It wasn't that late, Albus reminded himself constantly. Only ten o'clock. James had always been the outgoing, partying type. This was probably usual for him, sneaking back in after curfew. It wasn't like he was avoiding Albus.

But he was. As soon as Albus walked in for dinner, James got up and left in hurry, saying he had a mound of homework to get started on. Ha! Albus doubted James had ever put a decent effort into any assignment in his life unless it had something to do with Quidditch. The idea of James working on homework the first day of school was ludicrous. Albus knew better, but he let it slide. He knew he would talk to James later that evening.

But James was still nowhere to be seen. Albus had checked the library and his dorm, but James wasn't in either place. Granted, there were other places he could study in the castle – if Albus actually believed his excuse – but he couldn't go searching the entire grounds for his brother. Not only would he get lost without Rose's help, but James would probably sneak back inside and magically lock his door so that Albus couldn't get to him anyway, which is why he didn't dare shift from his watchful post in the common room armchair.

Rose had denied sitting around unproductively with them, saying she had gotten wind of an essay Professor Hawthorne, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was going to have them write and would rather get started on it than sit around moodily. Well, Albus was sitting around moodily – Darren had settled himself into a kind of patient waiting. Had Albus been in better spirits, he would have admired the restraint Darren had showed today. Not only were they newly-acquainted, meaning most people would've ditched him and Rose by lunch today, but not many people had this much patience to begin with. He had also been an extremely good friend, letting Albus ponder in his gloomy silences and going to check James's dorm every half hour when Albus got paranoid that he'd snuck in somehow.

Albus was glad that Darren didn't feel anything romantic towards Rose. She was his cousin, and he was going to raise hell against anyone who did. At the same time, he thought Darren would be a pretty good choice for her if he ever let Rose date. He'd be a good choice for any girl. The Hufflepuffs Malfoy had mentioned had him down pretty well (as though Albus was now an expert on his new friend) – he was good-looking in a way that made Albus feel self-conscious; he was intelligent and had done well in every class so far; and he was, surprisingly, a gentleman. Albus had noticed him holding open doors for everyone today, letting people go in front of him when they met in the corner of the corridor, perhaps overusing "please" and "thank you," and even letting Iris have the last dumpling at dinner, which Darren had been eying for the previous five minutes as he finished his plate. He was extraordinary, completely unusual for an eleven-year-old boy.

The portrait hole opened for what was probably the fiftieth time that evening, and Albus's determination was finally rewarded. He recognized the untidy black hair and immediately jumped up, cutting across the room to head his brother off at the staircase. This time, James made no effort to pretend he had to hurry up to bed or to claim to have forgotten something in the library. His brown eyes met his younger brother's green orbs warily, braced for the worst.

For a full minute, Albus could only glare at him, arms folded angrily against his chest. After everything they had been through, especially everything they had done over the summer, how could James have kept this from him? Retaining his narrowed eyes, Albus growled, "Why?"

James sighed and looked away. "They told me not to."

"That's crap and you know it!" he yelled suddenly, drawing the eyes and ears of the remaining students in the common room. "You don't care what they tell you to do!"

"Yes, I do," James said quietly, his eyes still staring determinedly at the fire as it licked up the logs.

Albus snorted. "Since when?"

"I always have," James said, looking back at his brother now. "I push them, see what rules I can bend and what rules I can break, what I can do without getting into serious trouble, but I've always known where to draw the line. I've always cared."

Now Albus looked away. "You're a liar."

"Yes," James said absentmindedly, fiddling with the hem of his robe. He was silent for a moment, then, "I was angry too, you know."

"I _do_ know," Albus spat. "Neville told me you sent them a Howler."

James nodded. "I was hoping you would hear it. Dad told me in the return owl that you didn't."

"So if you wanted me to know, why didn't you just send _me_ an owl?"

"I was going to for a long time. I'd talk myself into it, write it down, and then rethink and trash it again. I even got up to the Owlery and tied it around my owl a couple times. But I always decided not to at the last minute."

"But _why_?" Albus said. "It wasn't just because Dad said not to!"

"It was _because_ of what Dad said. Listen, Al, I'm not going to tell you what you want to know. If you heard it from me… it wouldn't be the same. You'd think it was stupid. It's different coming from Mum and Dad. Write them. They'll tell you."

Albus glared daggers at his brother. "Why does _everyone_ want me to write Dad? Why won't anyone just give me the answers I want and let me save some parchment? This is _stupid_!"

"See?" James said. "You think it's stupid now, and I haven't even told you."

"I think it's stupid _because_ you haven't told me!"

James just shook his head and walked past his brother up the stairs. "Sorry, Al. I'm not saying anything except that when you write Dad, you'll feel better. Past that, you're out of luck. Night."

And he left Albus standing there, completely furious with his brother for keeping him in the dark _again_ and for everyone telling him to write to his lying father, who, if he could help it, he would never talk to again.

-Renew-

Classes the next day were dreadful. They returned to Potions and were assigned a two-page essay in which they were to diagnose five hypothesized ill-concocted Swelling Solutions and determine in precise steps the remedies of each potion. Albus didn't even know what that meant. They went to their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and, just as Rose had heard, were assigned another essay. Another lunch full of students in foul moods passed. In Transfiguration, Professor Swift, the strange man that had led them into the Great Hall to get sorted, turned out to be more than just a black-haired weirdo. He knew his Transfiguration, that much could be said about him; in addition to his strange-but-jovial personality, he also had a serious side that made Albus fearful of making a mistake. He thought he did rather well for his first Transfiguration, however. He could never outdo Rose or Darren, who he was finding out were on near-level ground with one another, but he did think his snail looked a bit uglier. That might have been due his continually poking it in the eye, though.

It was with immense relief that Albus collapsed onto the common room couch after dinner, his mind blissfully blank. He had plans to stay like this for the next hour or so before starting on anything remotely homework-related, but Rose tapped him sharply on the shoulder after only a few seconds.

"What do you think you're doing?" she said testily. "Not only do we have loads of homework, but we've got Slughorn's meeting tonight!"

Albus groaned irritably. "Tell him I got sick."

"I'm telling him nothing of the sort," Rose said flatly. "And I'd have _thought_ you'd want to know more about your father, even if you didn't care about homework."

Albus peeked open an eye to look at her. She had her arms crossed defensively, a steely look in her eye. He sighed. "I do want to know," he murmured into the cushion.

"Well, then, I suggest you get up and start on some homework before the meeting tonight," she said. "That way we _might_ be able to do a little research tomorrow evening."

For a moment, Albus didn't move, just let the sour look filter through his features. Do some research to write a paper so he could do more research. Only Rose would find some pleasure in anything about that sentence. Heeding her words, however, he slowly pushed himself up and pulled his backpack towards him. Two essays and it was only the second day of classes. The Hogwarts teachers didn't play around.

He numbly read what he had written about Slughorn's essay several times before realizing he had no idea what he'd read. He read it again before realizing he had no idea what it _said_. After Rose explained it to him, he grimly dipped his quill into his ink bottle and poised it over the parchment he had laid out, hoping for inspiration. He still didn't understand how to properly make the Swelling Solution. He glanced over at Rose's paper, which already had one and a half paragraphs written and was still being attacked relentlessly. He sighed and placed the quill to parchment, starting to write with a couple of well-placed glimpses of Rose's paper: _The Swelling Solution is a sensitive potion that can be completely altered by the slightest of miscalculations…_

-Renew-

"Time to go," Rose said finally. Albus had been waiting for this for so long that he slammed his Potions book shut and threw everything back in his bag in the next five seconds. He had been watching the clock anxiously for the last thirty minutes, every glance hoping it would be significantly closer to the eight. Rose had taken every last second she could to write her essay; Albus had run out of ideas an hour ago and was writing a load of dung.

As Albus, Rose, and Darren stood, it suddenly occurred to the former two that they didn't know if Darren had been invited. Rose opened her mouth uncertainly. "Darren, you did, I mean, you got—?"

He smiled at Rose's obvious discomfort. "Yes, I received an invitation."

She flushed and smiled in relief.

_Naturally_, Albus thought frostily. _Of course the genius got invited._ Darren had already finished his essay, and his was _three_ pages of parchment. Rose had been too immersed in her own essay to notice.

The trio walked through the chilly castle towards Slughorn's office. As they passed the statue of the one-eyed witch on the third floor, however, a manic cackle made them all freeze where they stood. They glanced at one another uncertainly.

It happened in a second – Darren jumped at them, pushing them both onto the floor as a water balloon flew where Rose's head had been moments before. Albus banged his own skull hard against the wall, and his eyes showed the world black for a few moments before his head cleared. He peered blearily around for whatever had thrown the water balloon, and his eyes widened in shock as they located the source.

"Of course," he breathed. As the culprit launched his arm back for another attack, Albus jumped to his feet and dragged Darren and Rose with him. "MOVE!"

The next water balloon missed them by inches.

They were flying through the hallway now, the sounds of the cackle treading their path. They kept low and threw their hands over their heads as they ran, dodging a prefect as they tore down the stairs. They turned a corner and flattened themselves against the wall, heaving breaths as their lungs sought to catch up with them.

"What… _was_… that?" Darren asked.

Albus took another breath before answering, giving Rose a significant look. "Peeves."

Rose's eyes widened; then she smacked her forehead.

"What is a peeves?" Darren said quickly to make it all in one breath.

"Peeves," Albus said through deep breaths, "is his name. He's a poltergeist. My father—" And suddenly Albus couldn't say any more.

"He's someone to stay away from," Rose finished.

They took another several breaths until they were inhaling at normal rates again.

"Shall we go on, then?" Darren said, and with a conceding nod from the other two, they were off.

When they reached Slughorn's office in the cold dungeons, they found that the small group of students was composed of mostly timid-looking first years. There were a few older students clustered together, peering at the new members with a mixture of expressions. Albus gulped nervously to himself before following Darren and Rose to a set of empty seats. He caught sight of James across the room with the older students, and when the two brothers made eye contact, Albus turned his head sharply away and glared furiously at the bookcase.

As though on cue (and Albus suspected it might have been so), Slughorn entered the room, his wide smile making his eyes nearly disappear. "Hello, hello! What a pleasure to have you all here!" He flicked his wand and a comfortable-looking chintz chair zoomed from across the room to where he was seated. He eyes glowed with pride as looked around at them all, and Albus had to repress the idea of Slughorn gleaming at a collection of which Albus was nothing more than one of the pieces.

"You all know me, of course. I'm Professor Slughorn, and I've started this little 'Slug Club,' as I like to call it, for only the best of the best! For various reasons, I have selected you all to be a part of this intimate and highly sought after organization. It is a great honor. I like to meet with you all and expand your horizons, bring in some of my old students when they can find time in their busy schedules. Many of my former Slug Club members go on to do extraordinary things, from Captaining the Holyhead Harpies to working right next to the Minister of Magic! I have just as much faith in you all doing such extraordinary things as I did in them." He beamed. "Now, let's introduce ourselves, shall we?"

The introductions to one another, it turned out, were nothing more than Slughorn going around the room and stating in detail who each person was, who they knew, or what they could do. Indeed, Slughorn talked so much that it felt like an extra class where the entirety of the lesson was the professor lecturing. Still, Albus couldn't help but be mildly intrigued. Every person in the room was the child of someone famous, the child of someone who had been in his club before, or someone who had done an extraordinary spell in the Great Hall early this morning, as was the case of Belinda Fontayne, who had accidentally set the entire Ravenclaw table on fire (Albus was remorseful it had happened before he arrived).

"And here we have Darren Knight," Slughorn said with a twisted smile and a twinkle in his eye. "I met young Darren's parents through a friend of a friend, and they were both brilliant minds. I knew Darren would be just as extraordinary, and so I had to have him in my club! And look! He and Miss Weasley are the top potioneers among my first years!"

His grin turned to Rose. "Miss Rose Weasley, of course, is the daughter of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. You'll know those two names from your history books, I'm sure, as the two people who helped Harry Potter defeat You-Know-Who! Not only that, but Miss Granger was one of the finest witches I have ever seen. Quick-witted, intelligent, I knew she'd go far."

And with an almost greedy look, he turned to Albus. "I've already had the pleasure of meeting James, and here is Albus Potter! Youngest son of the famous Harry Potter himself! And your mother is Ginny Weasley, another fine witch. I once saw her cast a Bat-Bogey Hex that McGonagall herself would've admired! The genes in you are impressive. Potions may not be your strong suit – I suppose you inherited your mother's genes there – but I'm sure you'll excel in another class. If nothing else, on the field! Your father was incredible – got asked to be a Seeker professionally by a number of Quidditch teams, but he always insisted being an Auror was his only passion. He made a fine Auror, of course, but I do wonder what his life as a Seeker would've been like…."

He pondered that for a moment, then seemed to zap out of his daze and smiled at them all. He turned to the clock. "Goodness, five till already? Off with you, all of you! I won't have anyone getting back after curfew because of me. I'll send you another message with the time of the next meeting once I've set everything up. Goodnight, everyone!"

The first years got up the fastest, even though they had been trying not to seem too eager to leave. As though by unspoken consent, all of the older students except for James stayed behind and began immersing Slughorn in conversation, likely about the news he had just shared with them about the club's newest members. Albus's brother had already disappeared.

In the hallway, Rose looked at Darren and Albus with critical eyes. "He's like a collector, isn't he?"

"You thought so too!" Albus said with relief. "It was right creepy."

"Who are your parents?" Rose asked Darren as they walked.

"No one important," Darren said with a shrug. "I suppose he was merely fond of them."

"That doesn't seem like him," Rose said, her brows furrowing in concentration. "No, he must have seen something in them that you take for granted. He doesn't just take the intelligent for this club because he _likes_ them, he only accepts the _brilliant_. Your parents haven't won any awards or anything?"

Darren seemed to find this amusing. "No."

"I wonder what it could be then…" Rose said.

"Let it go," Darren said coolly. "It matters not why I am in his 'Slug Club.' I would prefer not to go back anyway."

"Why?" Rose asked curiously.

"As you said, he is a collector. I would rather not like to be a part of his collection."

"I told you, he's creepy," Albus said as they began ascending the many staircases towards Gryffindor Tower.

"Al, that's putting it mildly," Rose said. "Did you see the way he looked at everyone? It could cause potential _trauma_."


	6. Liar

After another relentless day of classes and a tiring evening attempting homework, Albus still hadn't finished everything he was assigned to do. Darren, who had finished it all after an hour of work today, had taken to reading a book by the fire, flipping through it half-heartedly as though he'd already read it a million times. Albus took to frequently glaring at him when Darren wasn't looking. It made him feel better.

Despite not being done with his homework, when Rose stretched and put her quill down – a telltale sign that she was finished with her work – Albus asked if she wanted to go to the library to research.

"Al," she said in that annoying tone she picked up from her mother, "you've still got a lot of work to do. I won't be the one to take you away from it."

"Rose," he said in an equally annoying voice, "I'll get it done. Before it's due. I swear. It's just if I look at this parchment for one more minute, I'm going to go mad." Rose opened her mouth to object, but Albus plowed on. "How about this?" He put his own quill down, shut his book, and stood up. "_I'm_ going to the library. You can't stop me. If you want to come with me to do some research, that's great. If not, I'm still not doing my homework, so your moral outrage is useless."

Rose glowered for a few moments, but then sighed. Albus grinned. Rose's curiosity had to be killing her too.

"Shall I accompany you then?" Darren asked quietly from the chair by the fire.

Albus jumped; he had nearly forgotten Darren was there.

"No, that's quite all right," Rose said, surprising Albus. Rose seemed to like Darren as far as he could tell. "I think this is something Al and I should do on our own, if you know what I mean. You know something I have been curious about, though? I heard some older students talking about the kitchens, and my mother has asked to check on the situation of the house-elves. Do you think you could try and find it for me? It would be a big help."

Darren looked inquisitively at Rose for a moment for giving an uncertain smile. "Certainly, if that is what you wish."

"Thanks," Rose said, and she grabbed Albus by the sleeve and nearly dragged him out of the common room.

"What was _that_ about?" Albus said, pulling away from her death grip. "He could've come, I don't care."

"If I was only looking up our parents, I wouldn't have really minded either. He probably would be a big help."

"Then what's wrong with him coming?"

"I just… don't want him there right now, okay?"

Albus raised his hands in surrender. There was no point in arguing the point with Rose. It would only lead them into an argument, and he needed her help to find the library.

When they reached the library, Albus noticed a stern-looking woman standing behind the counter. Rose whispered that was Madam Pince, and that as long as they didn't mess up any books or make any noise, they would get along fine. Albus's first impression was that she was the type of woman who could be a real pain if angered. He made a mental note to keep his voice down whenever here and followed Rose, who was looking over the aisles critically. She walked for a few moments before her expression lightened and she walked down one of the aisles, now looking curiously at the books.

"Is this where we should be?" Albus, who had never been in a library in his life, knew nothing about how books were organized.

"Yes," Rose whispered back. "This and the next seven aisles down are about famous people in wizarding history."

Albus's jaw dropped. "The next seven… _aisles_?"

When Rose did nothing but give him a stern look, Albus sighed and peered at the books despairingly, hoping for some sign as to which of them held information on his father. He glanced at the titles; they seemed to be alphabetized. With not much hope, he left the aisle he was in and traveled down to Aisle 3, which held the Hs. He glanced over the titles of a few books, and his jaw dropped once again. He had not expected to find _any_ books with his father's name, but he gazed upon at least ten volumes starting with "Harry Potter," whether it was _Harry Potter: The Tragic Childhood and Heroic Life_ or _Harry Potter and the Defeat of the Dark Lord_.

On another hunch, he ran down to Aisle 6, where the Ps were. There were at least another five books here: _Potter's Story (Including the Article Discussing You-Know-Who's Return Published in the Quibbler)_ and _Potter: An Abused Hero _among them. Just as Albus was putting all this information into his head, Rose came up to him and handed him a book: _The Dangerous Life of a Hero: A Biography of Harry Potter_. Albus's eyes bulged. Not only were there the books that started with H and P, but there would be others scattered in between, like this one, a D.

Albus dejectedly took the book Rose had handed him to the nearest table and sat down, positioning his arm so that it supported his head. Somehow, seeing all these books with his father's name on it put it into perspective for him. The _entire world_ knew his father's secret, but Albus had been kept out of the loop. It was like some sick, twisted joke. And now he was going to find out his father's entire life story – from a man he didn't even know, from a man who knew more about Albus's father than Albus himself did. He clenched his hand into a fist. This wasn't right! How could this be _real_?

Rose sat herself across from him, looking into his eyes. They exchanged the same look of disbelief, sharing the incredulousness for a few moments. Then she broke their gaze and opened her book to the first chapter, letting her eyes soak up the words on its pages. Albus flipped open his own book and sifted through the first few pages, letting his gaze rest on the chapter heading. _A Family Murdered_.

He only needed to glance through the first few sentences to get the gist, to make sure the heading wasn't misleading in any way. He sat back in his chair, already overwhelmed. So his grandparents had been _murdered_ by this Dark Lord? Why hadn't he known? Albus could only remember asking about his grandparents a few times, and every time his father would say, "They died a long time ago, before you were born." He'd usually add something else to the end of the sentence that would take Albus's mind off the subject, like, "It's a shame they didn't meet you, they'd be so proud! You did an excellent job flying yesterday! Did James teach you how to spin without falling?"

Rose looked up, examining the look on his face. "Already? You haven't even flipped the page."

Albus took so long to answer, Rose had already turned back to her book to continue reading.

"I want to know about him," Albus said slowly. "I want to know what really happened in his life, not _because_ he kept them from me, but because he's my dad. Because I used to want to be like him. But I don't want to be like a liar. I don't want to be like a person who can so easily lie about the most important parts of his life."

Rose paused for a moment. "And just what _are_ the important parts of a person's life?"

Albus sensed something in her tone that he didn't like. "I'd say the life-changing events that made him who is are pretty important!"

"But really, Al, isn't _that_ what's important?" Rose said quietly. "Isn't _who_ he is more important that what made him that way? As long as he hasn't been faking his personality and lying about loving you, isn't that what is most important?"

"Who he is, Rose," Albus said acidly, "is a liar. And _that's_ what I have a problem with."

Rose opened her mouth like she was going to say something else, then closed it and put her nose back in her book.

Albus glared at her for a few more moments, rocking on the hind legs of the chair he was sitting in. Then he slammed the book shut and stood up, muttering something about going back to the common room. Rose gazed helplessly after him as he left her behind, but he never turned back.

The raven-haired boy took his time walking around the castle, aiming to eventually hit Gryffindor common room. Since he didn't know the way, however, he figured he had time to blow. He used it to fume, to seethe, to let his anger stir and brew. How was he ever going to manage to learn the truth about his father this way? If every little lie brought him to a boil, if every half-truth made him walk away, how could he get through the dozens of books on his father in that library?

Albus absentmindedly turned a corner, not paying attention to his surroundings. It was with astonishment that he noticed he wasn't alone in the corridor, and the person was mere feet from him. He glanced up, surprised.

"Oh. Hey."

"Hey," Valerie said casually. "Where you headed? I didn't think anything important was down this way."

"I'm… just wandering," Albus said truthfully. "I don't know how to get back to the common room." He paused. "If nothing's down this way, why are you here?"

Valerie grinned. "My secret base is here!"

Albus blinked. "Your what?"

Valerie pulled at his sleeve. "C'mon, I'll show you." As they walked, she kept talking. "Whenever I go new places, I find a secret base. You know, somewhere you can go in case you need to be alone. The problem with Hogwarts is that you a share a room with up to four other people, and there's almost _always_ someone in the common room. So I had to find somewhere that nobody went."

They reached a classroom door and Valerie pulled it open, beckoning Albus inside. "I might have done a little after-hours sneaking around, but I finally found this place. You can see it's almost empty and even a little dusty, so I'm sure it hasn't been used for anything in ages. I guess it was an old classroom that they stopped using. They probably have too many, as big as this place is. Hey, what was your name again?"

Albus paused. "Albus Potter."

"Oh, right, you're the Potter," Valerie said. "I don't like the name Albus, though. Can you I call you something else?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"I dunno," she said, sitting down on top of one of the few desks remaining, "I don't know you that well yet." She winked at him, then started carefully spinning herself in circles. "I'll come up with a good nickname for you, though, promise!"

"Right," Albus said wearily. This girl wasn't like Rose – she had more enthusiasm. Albus wasn't quite sure how to handle it.

"Heeeeey," said the dark-haired girl, stopping her spin, "you don't seem like you're doing so well. What's up?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," Albus said, brushing off her comment. He didn't really want to talk about it.

Valerie gave him a hard stare. "You know, 'fine' isn't really an emotion. It's one of those words people say to get out of a conversation with someone else because they don't want to talk about the problem or they're not comfortable with the person or something. But you know, it's okay to talk about stuff with me." She grinned at him, starting to spin once again. "I'm the best listener _ever_."

Albus didn't believe that for a second. She talked way too much to ever shut her mouth. "Really, I'm okay."

"Really, you're a liar," she said, continuing to spin and to smile.

That struck a cord with Albus. He fought conflicting emotions of anger and sorrow. He didn't want to be like his father, he didn't want to be a liar, but he couldn't deny that the girl's words were true. Was it really that obvious that something had upset him?

With a sigh, he took a seat on top of a desk across from Valerie, kicking his feet in the air. "I'm not a liar," he said softly. "There is something bothering me."

"Yeah?" The girl paused facing away from Albus, then leaned back so that she was looking at him upside down. "What's wrong?"

Albus looked sideways at her. "You know, I still might not want to talk to you about my problems."

Valerie grinned, which made Albus want to turn his head so he could see her properly. It looked weird upside down; still, he resisted the urge. "You don't have to talk to me, but why not? I'm just some weird girl in your year. It's not like I know whoever is causing you the problem – unless it's Rose, and then I still don't really know her. I don't think she likes me." She stuck her tongue out playfully. "She's very down-to-earth, and I'm very in-the-clouds."

"What's that matter?"

"It's everything, silly! Talking about your problems makes you feel better. And talking about it to a total stranger who won't judge you or anyone else involved is the perfect venting strategy."

"Except you're not a total stranger. I'll have classes with you for the next seven years."

"I'll tell you what," Valerie said, sitting up straight and facing Albus. Her finger was raised like she was making a point as she spoke. Albus wanted to laugh; she was very strange. "If you spill your guts to me and feel totally awkward after, we don't have to be friends. I won't talk to you or Rose again. So no harm done! I'll be like a complete stranger!"

Albus stared at her, his brows furrowed. He really didn't understand this girl, but she was so determined to get him to talk. He supposed he could tell her; it's not like it was a big secret or anything. The big secret was the one kept from him. "Deal."

He peered up at the ceiling for a minute, still kicking his feet against the air. "Well… you know how my dad is super famous?"

"Yeeeeah…" Valerie said, prolonging the word.

"Well… I didn't know. My parents and Rose's parents were in this big conspiracy to keep it from us until we got to Hogwarts. In Potions the other day with Slughorn? That was the first time I heard he defeated a Dark Lord. I mean, I knew he was an Auror so he tracked and fought bad wizards all the time, but nothing on the scale of saving the world from the ultimate villain."

Valerie remained silent, something that shocked Albus. Was she actually a good listener, or was this the exception rather than the rule?

"I'm just really upset. Anyone would be, I guess. I want to know _why_ he never told me. Nev—Professor Longbottom has been a friend of the family for ages, but he said he was sworn to secrecy not to tell me. Even my brother, who's a huge troublemaker and rebel, is keeping his mouth shut. Everyone's telling me to write to my father to find out why. But I don't want to write to my father. I don't want to speak to him _again_. I don't understand how he can justify lying to me my whole life. I used to look up to him, but now I want nothing to do with him. I don't want to be like him, a liar."

Albus went silent. Valerie waited a minute to ensure he was finished before speaking. "So you lost your idol in one big blow. That must suck."

"It does," Albus agreed.

"That's totally not fair, though," she continued. "How could they let you come to Hogwarts not _knowing_? I mean, they at least should've told you the day before you came or something. That way you could ask all your questions then and at least be _informed_ about your own _family_ when you got here. And everyone's against you, not telling you _anything_ you want to know. I'd be angry too if I was you. They left you to deal with something huge all on your own. That's not right."

Albus felt a surge of gratitude toward her. "Yeah, it's not right."

Valerie smiled. "Feel better now?"

Albus smiled too. "Not really. My problems haven't changed at all."

"But," she said, waggling her finger in the air again, seeing from his smile that his words weren't entirely true, "now you've got someone who knows the crap you're dealing with. If you ever need to rant again, feel free to pull me aside."

"Rose already knew what I am going through. She didn't know either."

The expression on Valerie's face wilted. "Oh… well… now someone on the _outside_ knows! So even if _Rose_ makes you angry, you can still come talk to me! You can't talk to Rose about _that_ now, can you?"

He could, but trying to talk to Rose about her flaws was about a smart as taunting an angry manticore.

"I suppose not. Well, thanks, I guess," he said, standing.

"You're welcome!" she said cheerfully.

As he turned the handle for the door, Valerie's voice called after him. "Hey… do you still want to be my friend?"

Albus glanced back at her, a glimmer of a smile on his face. "Yeah, I guess."

The smile when he left filled Valerie's entire face.

It took him a long time to find the Gryffindor common room. He finally figured out what floor it was on with the help of some quarrelsome portraits, but the people in the paintings kept moving. He thought he found the right entrance to the common room several times, but no one was in the portrait to tell him if he was right or not. Finally, when the Fat Lady returned from a visit to her friend Violet, he provided the password and made his way inside. Darren was sitting in the same chair reading the same book as when they had left.

"Hello," he said softly, not looking up as Albus walked in. "Rose has been very worried about you. She said you left the library a long time ago."

"Oh, yeah… I got sidetracked."

"You were lost for so long?"

"Not exactly."

Darren sighed. "It does not matter. She will be pleased to hear that you are well."

"How are you going to tell her that? James said the staircase flattens when you try to go to the girls' dormitory."

Darren looked down to the floor where a black cat was curled up facing the fire. He stroked her back. "My cat is a female. She will deliver the message."

As though she knew he was talking about her, the cat peered blearily at Darren. He placed a note in her mouth and whispered Rose's name. The cat stretched, then pranced off to the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

"Shall we retire?" Darren asked, closing his book soundlessly.

"Uh, sure," Albus said. He walked over to the staircase and climbed up the steps, then proceeded into his room. The other three boys were already asleep – or at the very least had already shut themselves inside their curtains. Albus changed and collapsed on the bed, not realizing until he lay there just how tired he was. It had been a long day. Classes were never-ending and his search in the library hadn't gone nearly as smoothly as he'd hoped. This was going to take some mental preparation. But how could he prepare himself for a truth he didn't want to believe?

Albus knew his father had lied to him. Too many people spoke about the _great_ Harry Potter, the _hero_ Harry Potter. All the same, he wished that when he woke up tomorrow, he'd find that everything had simply been a dream. That his father was still the heroic figure to Albus that he had been for the last eleven years. It gave him a feeling of security to believe that he and his father had such a tight bond, that they could talk about _anything_. He wanted that relationship back.

It sort of felt like Harry Potter had stolen his father. Albus had never thought of his dad as Harry Potter; sure, he knew that his father's name was Harry Potter, but they seemed separate at the same time. The man named Harry Potter was Albus's _father_ first and foremost – his dad, his best friend. But now they seemed to be two separate identities more than ever. What had happened to Albus's dad, the kind, trustworthy man he had come to admire, to idolize? And why did this Harry Potter of legend have to take him away, to twist him into a despicable liar? It wasn't fair.

All Albus had ever wanted was a normal year at Hogwarts – just like his dad always had. Except now Albus knew that his father had _never_ had a normal year at Hogwarts. He'd practically been born a legend. Everything his father had ever said about his time at Hogwarts was probably a lie.

It didn't look like Albus was going to have a normal year at Hogwarts, but if the first three days were any indication, it did seem like it would be the same kind of year as his father's.


End file.
